


Hypoxia

by Enosimania (Polia)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Bondage, Dom Loki, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, F/M, Non-Consensual, Original Character Death(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Thor (2011), Strangulation, Vaginal Sex, gratuitous use of clones, leather and chains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polia/pseuds/Enosimania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assassin is sent after Loki and fails. Cue dungeons sex involving chains, leather belts, strangulation, and funtimes with clones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypoxia

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a tumblr request for an asphyxiation fic that I kind of ran with. The plot is thread-thin and weak and the whole setup is just for the porn.

The halls of the palace were rushing with currents cold - and tempers hot. Everyone was in a fervor that seemed out of place in the usually peaceful times Asgard was enjoying. Doors were opening and closing, falling shut violently, and the standards flapped around the windows, chaotic like maddened snakes. In the belly of the citadel, in increasingly narrow corridors, a contingent of choleric capes and one viridian billowed at the heels of heavy boots. They moved with purpose and an air of menace to the dungeons. The air there was distinctly colder than the one in the large, opened halls of the palace above where courtiers fretted and servants scurried to and fro with orders from their masters. A crisis had been averted but the very event injected a wakefulness in the typically quiet life of Asgard, and now its people didn’t know what to do with themselves.

The guards and their lead stopped at the gate of the larger chamber of the dungeons, turned a rusty key in its hole, and walked in. From the chains at a far pillar, darkly dressed and poorly lit, hung a young woman. Her head was held high, as much as it could be in her position, and she stared in defiance and bravery at a corner of the stone chamber. She wouldn’t acknowledge her jailers.

 

A cold male voice ordered them to leave. The guards seemed reluctant.

"I could handle her live, do you think me so weak? She is chained. Leave. I wish to exact my vengeance without your help." which was Loki’s way of saying he wanted privacy. The guards bowed and left him with the prisoner.

The younger prince of Asgard turned to his captive slowly and with venom. She still wouldn’t look at him.  
"Take my life?" he started the conversation, his elegant arms parting for a moment to present the case to her. "Did you genuinely think it would work?" No answer. "I marvel how you could infiltrate Asgard at all. Do you even speak our language?" The woman’s eyes tilted up to the wall, as if rolling in her skull. "Of course you do…" concluded Loki.  
"The torture chamber? Really?" she finally spoke, looking around them at the reeking, leaking, chilling room and its instruments. Her voice carried an almost imperceptible accent that Loki could not place. "Are you hoping this will intimidate me?"  
"I care not whether you’re intimidated, simple thing. I only want satisfaction."  
"You’ll get none from me." she scoffed.  
"Won’t I?"

The assassin still refused to look at him, though in the palpitating candle light he was well visible. Loki was before her in a few long strides and gripped her chin and hair harshly, pulling her attention to him. “Answer me, wench: won’t I?”  
She considered spitting at him, but chose instead to level him the most arrogant gaze she could summon. She wasn’t a savage. She had pride, Loki could tell, in spades. He was well familiar with pride, and how fragile it was; perhaps the most fragile part of her.

The god started laughing in her face, and his sudden levity, his rich laugh and rakish grin, knocked her off her center for a moment.  
"Oh you poor little fool…" began the prince. "You poor, incompetent little fool. Who did you fail? Tell me." He still had the most sickening cheer in his voice, as if she had just pulled a poor prank and he caught her. He didn’t even seem the least bit upset. "Will they send a man next time, do you think?"  
That got a reaction from her, a faint smirk.  
"Oh, were you their best?" continued Loki. "How sad for them…"

And now he pulled away with a smirk of his own, leaving the woman hanging with her bitter feelings.

Loki paced around, turned, strutting almost, letting his cape brush the dust off the floor. He looked up at her from time to time with a smile in his eyes and on his sanguine lips. Then suddenly reaching a decision, he made for a glass cabinet and contemplated its contents. She turned to look at him, more curious than frightened at that point. She could hardly tell, from the mass of leather and metal, what instruments were there: she could only tell that they were many.

"It doesn’t matter…" Loki mumbled as if to himself, and she wasn’t sure whether he was talking about the instruments or something else. "You can’t but make a few enemies in this life." he added, and it was clear now he was talking to, or at least about her.  
He then finally settled on a leather strap and a dagger.

"So, let’s rehearse your courtship of death before you meet him." spoke Loki as he approached her again, arrogance and confidence in his every move. "You infiltrate my servitors, you sneak up on me in the early morning hours, and… what did you expect? What did you hope for when you leveled your knife to my bed?" The prince strode towards her slowly, his hand bouncing the dagger as he contemplated where to cut her first. "Did you think you could outwit a master of magic?"

He loved seeing her so exposed for him, her chest chest rising and falling as she prepared for his strike or his torture. The woman’s hands were held next to her head, hanging from long chains, and her head was raised to confront him. When he lashed, however, he only exposed her further by cutting into her dark clothes and stopping short of her skin, where he could. Her chest was revealed to him slice by slice. Loki signaled with a chuckle that he was more than satisfied by what he saw.  
"A word of advice you will never get to apply: your ham handed tactics might work against the likes of Thor, or warriors blind in general. I suppose I find more insult in your failure than you do." He didn’t do her the courtesy of looking at her face as he chastised her, inspecting instead the breasts that slipped out of the restraining garment as he cut between them, parting the material gently with the blade.  
"If you hope to frighten me with th—"  
"No, I have no use of your fear." Loki interrupted her with chilling calm, still continuing to look at her chest. "There are just parts of you I would not like to see go to waste." and he slid the cold blade against her nipple, hardening it but not cutting.

And he drew closer, ready to take the tattered garments off when she did something brash and stupid. She tried to kick him with her unbound legs, even if there was no way out of that cell, guards were patrolling everywhere. All she managed to hit, however, was empty air and a shivering green form. Her angry and surprised eyes jumped from the illusion to another point in the dark chamber, a glittering gold and green that was approaching from the darkness with an arrogant smirk. “Fell for it again?”

As Loki walked towards her leisurely, the illusion gripped her face with one hand while it tore her clothes with the other. Her questioning eyes went form it to the God of Mischief, and he deigned to explain - in deliberately elaborate language - how the substance of the illusion was such that it could touch her, and feel real, while anything with much weight that tried to touch it couldn’t.  
She was by now naked to the waist, and the double worked on her sleek trousers while Loki stopped not far away, admiring her body very deliberately: she looked similar to the aesir, but she wasn’t as tall as their women. She could have been alfar, but she wasn’t fair enough. She might have been dokkalfar, Loki contemplated, but he wasn’t certain.  
"You haven’t asked what I’m going to do with the leather." the prince mentioned to her while extending his hand to play with her breast, bouncing the firm flesh in his palm while leaving the nipple exposed and hardening.  
"And I’m not going to." she coolly stated.  
"I’m going to kill you with it." Loki answered anyway, enjoying the slight widening of her eyes. "Yes, it isn’t creative enough to kill someone with a dagger, don’t you think? Worry not though, I won’t do it just yet."

His double was done undressing the victim by now, and the identical pair stood aside to admire their good work. The illusion, it seemed, had no will of its own but instead was controlled entirely by its master. And both pairs of eyes raked across the helpless figure, its round and high breasts, fit for suckling, the smooth skin that spread over the taut stomach, the delicate curve of the hips, the long legs… Her breasts were what they most enjoyed, dark tipped and becoming puckered in the cold, together with the triangle of curls between her legs, the shape of her lips distinguishable even as she tried to close her legs more tightly together.  
The failed assassin tried not to feel embarrassment at her nakedness. It was no novelty to her, and her training had been so rough she no longer was intimidated by men’s gazes or invasive touches. But it was the shame of her failure that tainted her mind, and the shame spread to everything about herself. She didn’t care whether the whoreson before her liked her or not - though his green eyes looked literally hungry - and she definitely didn’t care whether she pleased him. But his reactions were so overbearing, he acted as if he answered questions she never asked and thus imposed his view on her. She supposed he’d be the type to prefer mental torture to the physical.

Loki was determined on doing things very physical that night though. It wasn’t often that someone made attempts on his life - this was the first time, in fact - and that she could get as close as she did impressed him, even excited him though he dare not admit it to himself.

"Turn around." he commanded suddenly. The woman was stuck between incredulity and defiance; she didn’t move. Loki’s double had to move her for him, the chains twisting together above her head, bringing her hands higher and closer together. It had to hold her still, gripping her legs as Loki approached her faintly quivering form. Her face was buried in the old stone and she didn’t know whether she should expect lashings or a blade at her throat. She got neither; instead, Loki slipped his fingers between her cheeks, making her jump at the intrusion, and his hand advanced to the curls between her legs and the lips underneath, stroking a fire under her while his double moved her loose hair over her shoulders, exposing her back as well. She would have laughed at the prince’s mild treatment, compared to what she expected, but she was too breathless.

Loki’s hand went to her front and pushed her closer to him, away from the stone, rubbing her against his warmer front while his fingers kept trying to make her wet. He stroked her clit, alternating between fast and languid, rough and faint, trying to discern if she had any preference, but she kept as stony as the walls. Her only reaction was when she shoved a long finger up her cunt, her legs clenching at the invasion, but she remained helpless. Loki was pleased to find her tight, though not very wet. So he kept working her while his creation reached from behind him to tease her nipples - somehow he felt it better if she didn’t see them. Let her keep guessing which of them was real.  
Between the four hands teasing her, the woman soon enough grew moist and just on the verge of moaning at the surprisingly gentle treatment, but it stopped too soon. Loki removed himself from her, and just when she turned her head to see where he’d gone, she felt the leather strap slide around her throat. A firm hand pulled it back, cut off her air, and she couldn’t so much as scream. Her legs kicked in vain and she dangled from the chains, the metal biting the flesh at her struggles.

She grit her teeth in pain and was just about to try to push off the pillar when a cold rush hit her back, like a winter current, and suddenly there was a slippery piece of hardness poking at her bottom. She heard Loki chuckling from behind, but further away. With one hand his double twisted the binding at her throat, making her tilt her head back for air, and with the other he spread her lips and shoved inside, struggling with the tightness but soon enough reaching as far as he could go. Her mouth opened in shock and Loki turned to look at her genuinely pained face, a brilliant smile on his features as his double fucked her roughly.

It only shoved inside her a few times, however, before removing its bulging length and starting to poke at her ass now. Her eyes went wide as she realised he had only used her to wet itself before fucking her completely differently. A couple of fingers poked at her ass hole, trying her tightness, and that alone was more painful than the large cock had been. The assassin’s head fell to the pillar and she closed her eyes, cringing, willing for the cold of the stone to distract her from what was happening. Loki kept following her reactions, as well as his naked double’s use of her. He toyed absently with the dagger as he watched the show and paced around looking for the best view.

Two fingers barely managed to make their way into her, not without cutting her flesh a little, and her small cries were cut by a tightening of the belt around her throat. There was something strangely comforting in that little cruelty, as the lack of air slowly made her less aware of the pain. That ended when she felt a third finger shoved into her, and then all of them started moving in and out, trying to get further each time.  
After a few thrusts, the monstrosity at her back deemed her ready and wordlessly shoved its cock in the stead of its fingers, first nudging the head in, then the rest, trying to bury itself to the hilt in one thrust. The woman could feel blood pool in her head, unable to go down, felt her lips swelling with blood and cries choking in her throat. Tears started trickling down her cheeks and all she could voice were little yelps as Loki’s double started thrusting in earnest now, grunting with startling realism. Its hand gripped the pillar by her waist as if to steady itself, and he pulled her head back with the belt, in this way forcing her to bend her back as well. She complied, broken and hopeless and in pain, and the grip around her throat was relaxed marginally but it was still tight enough that she couldn’t move away.

Her mouth gasped in unheard cries whenever the body behind her shoved more roughly, and as the hips pushed into hers and made her rub herself against the stone, she bit her lip not a little wantonly. Loki, the real one, seemed intrigued by this, and although he didn’t move from the spot he’d chosen, his eyes burned into her. The double gripped her hair and forced her face to the side, where once she opened her eyes she could see the God of Mischief, grinning but almost as breathless as she. The dagger was forgotten in his fingers and his whole attention was on her, from her bloodless hands limp in their chains to the way her breasts hugged the pillar she was pressed into, to the taut throat held in the belt, her eyes and parted lips quietly begging him to let her go. But Loki chose instead to let the scene unfold further, luxuriating in the sight of himself buried in the woman’s soft backside, shoving her against the stone with each thrust, moving her almost off the ground as he jolted into her.

The double sped its thrusts to an animalic pace and tightened the belt around her neck significantly. It breathed harshly over her ear and moaned almost in pleasure as it reached something like orgasm. It even produced its own cum to release inside the nearly fainted woman, the ghostly substance trickling down her thighs when he released her. Were it not for the chains, she would have collapsed long ago. She had very little respite though, as Loki was in front of her in a heart beat, his armor disappearing mid stride and through her hazy eyes, she could see him ready himself to penetrate her anew. She didn’t even have time to beg before, cock in hand, Loki brought himself to her entrance and shoved inside, surprised to find her quite wetter than earlier. Her breasts were rubbed raw from the stone and her curls stuck to her skin with juices.  
"You didn’t happen to enjoy that, did you?" he asked in a low voice, conspiratorially, while the double positioned itself again behind her.  
Had she liked it? She didn’t realise it until now, but the significant wetness on her thighs was indeed her own. The sounds Loki made as he pushed into her, slapping his skin against her wet and sweating one, defied the pain she felt. Her eyes fell closed and she gasped and Loki grinned to himself. “Oh… You did…” he murmured in a tense voice.

It was easier to penetrate her now from both sides, the woman wet and pliant completely. She even moaned somewhat pleasurably as the pair moved her, supporting her with their thrusts, almost caressing her skin as they rubbed against her back, her clit and nipples. The prince had a body built for this activity, too, lean and strong and frightfully thick. The woman felt stretched to her limit and she leaned her head back even without the belt pressing into her throat, although it did return but with less viciousness this time. In front of her Loki was admiring the close view, the feeling of her walls constricting against his sharp thrusts, gripping his cock so tightly it was almost shoving him out, but he was too deep to go anywhere. Her legs spread for him, for both of them, and she let herself be fucked as the belt tightened almost like a caress around her throat, cutting off just enough air to make her feel half-dead. Smaller perceptions died and all she felt was the cock thrusting into her cunt, the hardness pressing and rubbing against her clit, the fingers teasing her nipples, the gasps fanning at her throat, the hardness spreading her ass hole, and all of herself filled and pushed and pulled and made wetter.

Loki’s head fell to her shoulder as he allowed himself to moan louder, speeding himself and touching her more passionately while behind her he could see himself holding the edges of the belt in one angry fist, pulling back almost harshly as its thrusts became more violent. All the woman gave to that were a few whimpers, her eyes closed as she shivered between them, helpless. The both of them started fucking her faster, willing to coax as much pleasure out of her as he could, and soon enough she came with a strangled, cut off moan, her neck tensing against the leather as she tried desperately to lean forward. The orgasm wrecked through her body and maddened her mind with more power than any sensation ever had before, and she wanted to shout and curse and beg.  
Her walls milked his cock, gripping it in a trembling, velvet fist and Loki groaned at the sensation, releasing finally into her, their juices mixing and gushing out of her even as they were still entwined. Behind her, the illusion groaned in its own faux-orgasm and after a few more harsh thrusts and pulls against her white throat, it shivered and vanished.

Loki kept giving her a few more shallow thrusts, enjoying the jerking movements of the woman suspended before him. For only a moment, she seemed to have fainted from the force of her pleasure. But her senses slowly came back to her just as Loki let his length slip from between her lips, letting the juices and small rivulets of blood drip down her thighs from her abused and pleasured holes.  
She had barely managed to open her eyes, to look at the dark god before her, when the belt tightened again, this time from the front and with frightening determination. The woman struggled against her chains and tried to cry out but Loki had stony reserve and with a truly murderous face, so different from the one of pleasure he had moments before, he kept tightening the leather around her throat until her vision faded and her breath stopped, and soon enough she hung dead in the chains.


End file.
